


Things to do in Dallas when you're pissed

by marginaliana



Category: The Grand Tour (TV) RPF
Genre: Gen, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-14 23:15:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21023837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marginaliana/pseuds/marginaliana
Summary: These are the things Andy has to put up with. He's mostly resigned, but right now he just wants to know how the hell they ended up doingthis.





	Things to do in Dallas when you're pissed

**Author's Note:**

> For the CHM Picture Paints 1000 Words challenge, 2019.
> 
> Picture inspiration:  
[](https://i104.photobucket.com/albums/m172/wyvern_chick/Photo%20challenge%202019/OT3%207_zpsffok9scn.jpg)

"How?" Andy said. "Nevermind, I know how. _Stupidly_, that's how. More importantly, _why_?"

"Bet you can guess that one, too," James muttered. "Jesus, Wilman, you were there when we left the bar last night."

"And yet somehow I wasn't there in Hammond's room later on when that bottle of gin was emptied. If I were a lesser man I'd be offended by the lack of invitation."

"Didn't know you could be less of a man," said Richard. James would have slapped him on the back of his head except that he knew Richard was even more hungover than himself, and a slap might actually cause his brain to explode. Again.

"We only didn't invite you because you hate gin," Jeremy said earnestly, jumping in before Andy could respond to Richard. "And we didn't have anything else on hand."

_Because we finished off the minibar the night before,_ James thought.

"And yet you had the ability to go out to god knows where and buy—" Andy held up one of the hats: upside down, the stuffed animal inside the bowl of it like a bird in a nest. If there was a bird that looked like a leprous yeti. "—whatever the fuck this is."

> "Look!" Jeremy crowed. "It's you!" He plucked something from the shelf of the Dallas tourist shop and waggled it at Richard. "Your deepest, dearest dream has come true and they've made you into an action figure!" 
> 
> James' vision wobbled for a moment as he turned to look. It was a stuffed— actually, he had no idea what it was. "Izzat a badger?" he asked. "Thought we'd decided on hamster."
> 
> "Not sure," Jeremy admitted. "Does it matter?" He seemed the least drunk out of the three of them, which was surprising. Or perhaps not, given his long-developed tolerance.
> 
> "Fuck you, 'm not a badger," Richard mumbled, grabbing up at the thing only for Jeremy to hold it out of reach. 
> 
> "You like mud," Jeremy said. 
> 
> "Badgers are properly tidy, though," James said. Jeremy whacked him on the head with the probably-not-a-badger; James yelped and slapped it away. Jeremy lost his hold on it and it flew past Richard's elbow, skidding away across the somewhat muddy floor of the shop. All three of them stared at it.
> 
> "Prolly gonna have to buy that," said Richard sadly.

"And then the chains," Andy said. "What on god's earth—"

> "Ooh!" Richard said, pointing.
> 
> The billboard said 'SALE' in letters that were probably bigger than Richard himself. They were wreathed with golden rings and diamonds, and an arrow pointed diagonally downwards towards a large store at the sign's bottom right corner. A smaller neon sign above the door read, 'Open 24 Hours.' 
> 
> "Oh, _yes_," said Jeremy. He held up the… llama. "This little bloke needs some bling if he's going to look like his daddy."
> 
> "I am _not_," Richard began, his voice rising sharply, "that thing's d—" James clamped a hand over his mouth.
> 
> "C'mon, Hammond," he said. "We're in America! We'll get you something shaped like a motorbike or a Land Rover or a gun. Something manly."

"But all of that pales when I compare it to the foil," Andy said. "At this point I'm past even wondering about the hat labels because they make as much sense as anything, but the _fucking_ foil, you three. Why."

> "That man from the jewelry shop is following us," Jeremy hissed. 
> 
> "Wha?" said James, turning.
> 
> "No, no, don't look, you idiots!"
> 
> James turned back around, shame-faced but reassured to see that Richard had been looking too.
> 
> "Honestly, you two would be the worst spies in the world," Jeremy said. "Get followed by a mafia jeweler and you don't even have the sense to pretend you haven't noticed. You're stupider than this…" He waggled the animal. "…weasel." 
> 
> "Excuse me," said Richard loudly. "I'll have you know I would be a— a great— thing you just said. Great one of those, definitely."
> 
> James snorted. 
> 
> "I know secret tricks," Richard added. "Can protect my mind with one of those foil hats, can make invisible ink out of jizz…" 
> 
> "That's what we need to do!" Jeremy said. "Foil hats, so they can't see into our brains."
> 
> That was _not_ the part of Richard's statement that James had fixated on. But then again, now that he was thinking about Richard and jizz, he decided he needed a foil hat after all. To hide those thoughts. Even from himself. _Especially_ from himself.
> 
> "Going to need a big hat," he said. "Big."
> 
> "That shop had hats," Richard said, fiddling with his new necklace, flipping the letter R back and forth. They hadn't had motorbikes in gold and he wouldn't settle for silver. "You know, where we got the… sheep." He pointed at the stuffed animal.
> 
> "There was a corner shop next to it," James said. He'd sobered up a little, but only enough that he wished he hadn't and so was clinging to the last of his tipsiness. "Prob'ly has foil."
> 
> "Excellent," Jeremy said, a gleam in his eye. "Let's go."

"All right," Andy said, though it plainly wasn't. "Fine. But then you took a picture – worse, had some random hotel employee take the picture – and do you know where that thing has ended up?"

Silence.

"Well?"

"Onthntrnt?" Jeremy mumbled.

"What was that?"

James was reminded forcefully of his grade three maths teacher.

"On the internet," Jeremy said belligerently, apparently having decided he couldn't be bothered pretending to feel guilty. "On the bloody internet, is that what you want me to say?"

"Yes," said Andy. He waggled the hat aggressively at Jeremy. "On the _fucking_ internet, and now I have to talk to the Beeb about your turn to American gang violence and why you're clearly threatening to smother Hammond to death with a stuffed… yak, and you know what's the worst thing about all of this?"

Silence.

"What's the worst thing?" James asked at last.

"The worst thing is that _I didn't even get to be drunk_!"


End file.
